


Caught in the Cupboard of Forbidden Books

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: First Time, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29007354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: After some months of living in the Darkness, Mr Strange decides to risk a look inside the cupboard where Mr Norrell hides what he considers the dangerous books of magic. When Mr Norrell goes out to gather plants for a magical experiment, Mr Strange seizes the opportunity, not considering that if the two magicians stray too far apart, one is whisked back into the presence of the other. Mr Norrell accidentally does stray too far from Mr Strange. Bickering and sex result.
Relationships: Gilbert Norrell/Jonathan Strange
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Caught in the Cupboard of Forbidden Books

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Predatrix for the premise and for betaing the results!

On a pleasant evening a few months after Mr Strange had brought his Pillar of Darkness to Hurtfew Abbey and been reconciled with his former tutor, Mr Norrell, the pair were sitting on the sopha in front of the fireplace in the beautiful library of magical books.

Ordinarily under such circumstances, the two would be reading their own separate books. Tonight, however, Mr Norrell carefully opened a rather fragile old volume at a place he had marked and gently handed the volume to his friend. “Here you are, Mr Strange. Have a look over that quite intriguing spell I mentioned to you. The one that might allow us to conjure an illusion of sunlight.”

“Gladly, sir!” Mr Strange paused. “How very pleasant it would be if we could accomplish such a thing. I have been living in the Darkness longer than you, and wonderful though it has been to join you here at Hurtfew and work again with you, even a semblance of daylight would be comforting.”

He picked up a large magnifying glass, given that the book’s print was small and the light rather low. Carefully he read the spell as Mr Norrell watched him with a tiny fond smile, thinking how beautiful he was and how overjoyed he himself was that their feud was over and they were now trapped here together, perhaps for a hundred or a thousand years—for they had no idea how long the gentleman with the thistle-down hair had specified when he cast the Spell of Darkness upon Mr Strange.

He wiped the fond smile from his face as Mr Strange looked up from the book. “Do you know, I think this just might work! As long as it is only an illusion, it might be possible to achieve even within the Darkness.”

Mr Norrell sighed in relief. “I am so glad you agree with my opinion, Mr Strange. I must say, it has a fiendishly large number of ingredients, nearly all plants. In relation to sunlight, though, I suppose plants make sense. I have a few of the required ones in dried form, but tomorrow I shall need to venture out and find the rest.”

The pair had moved the Pillar of Darkness, complete with Hurtfew Abbey and a significant portion of its grounds to Padua, Italy about ten weeks earlier in order to communicate with Mrs Strange and assure her of her husband’s safety. They had seen no reason to return to Yorkshire and had removed the Darkness a short way out into the Adriatic Sea, so as to avoid making the inhabitants of the region nervous and inconvenienced by the ominous dark tower. It also prevented them from receiving unwelcome visitors in case any of the local people worked up the courage to enter the Darkness and investigate what they were doing.

There it hovered above the water until such time as they decided where to go next. This relocation to the sea had been Mr Strange’s preference. Mr Norrell had suggested the idea of moving to the foothills of the Alps, a good, sturdy foundation upon which to place his home. He could hardly, however, resist Mr Strange when he wanted something (for how could any one resist such a beautiful, charming man?) and quickly gave in. He felt quite odd at first, thinking that his home was only a short distance above waves and deep water, but everything seemed quite normal and the house as stable as ever. He soon forgot all about it. As a result of all this, Mr Norrell could still gather plants from his magician’s garden and the nearby stream easily enough, just as if they had remained in Yorkshire.

Lately Mr Strange had secretly been thinking of doing something that could only be done when Mr Norrell was safely absent, preferably for some little while and outside the house. This was due to the fact that it was something of which he knew Mr Norrell would strongly disapprove. Something that had niggled at his mind until he finally found himself unable to resist the temptation, risky though it was.

He asked casually, “Will gathering them take you long, do you think? It sounds as though it would.”

Since Mr Norrell always enjoyed discussing and gathering the ingredients for spells, even when that required him to venture outside and sometimes become frightfully muddy as he worked, he replied happily, “Oh, quite some time, I should think. Some items, as usual, are roots and must be dug up just so. Afterward, I must wrap each carefully to keep them from mingling with or even touching each other prematurely. I am convinced that such contact would vitiate their magical properties to some degree, at least in some cases. Then they must be labelled and tucked away in a logical order.” The very thought of such precise, systematic work made him smile with anticipatory satisfaction.

Mr Strange listened with a little fond smile. Gilbert was so … what was the word? So cute when he was enthusiastically talking about magic. Most people would not consider Mr Norrell cute, but his face lit up at such moments, and it quite transformed him. Rather like when he smiled.

“I suppose you do not need me to go with you. As you have pointed out, I have not yet achieved the ability to identify the vast range of plants used in magical spells.”

“Oh no, you need not participate on this occasion. Teaching you the appearances of all these plants would prolong what already promises to be a time-consuming task. I could, of course, show you the ingredients when I return, which would allow you to learn their general appearances. If the spell proves successful and we need to repeat it daily, I could take you along when our supplies run low.”

Mr Strange concealed his delight. “I thought as much. Thank you for undertaking a search that should result in something of benefit to us both. I take it that the plants we need are all to be found relatively close by.”

“Oh, yes, apart from the rarer items that we already have in dried form. Were it necessary for me to venture further afield, I would, of course, need you to accompany me, so that we could together move beyond the current limits of the Darkness.”

Mr Norrell yawned. “Well, I believe I shall retire to bed and read for a while, Mr Strange. If you are planning to stay up longer, I would appreciate your banking the fire and seeing to the candles and so forth.”

“Of course I shall. Good night, Mr Norrell. Sleep soundly.”

“Thank you, and you as well, Mr Strange.”

++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning Mr Norrell assembled his equipment for cutting or digging out the plants, his jars and labels, gloves, and everything he needed for the expedition outside. He wore an old gardener’s coat which the two had found in the servants’ quarters, as well as water-proofed boots, which were all very inconvenient but necessary to put up with in the cause of magic. He smiled at the thought that he had so often conjured rain to create all sorts of spectacular illusions, but he had no way to keep the ground from being muddy. All the evidence suggested that rain fell in the Darkness only at night—or what they treated as night—when they were asleep. They had never managed to witness it doing so, but the park flourished and the ground was often muddy.

Mr Strange bade him good hunting and saw him walk initially toward the special garden of plants commonly used in magical spells. After that he would go on to the riverbank, where the aquatic plants could be found. Mr Strange had questioned Mr Norrell about this itinerary and estimated that he would be at least an hour at his task.

Mr Strange waited for about five minutes, in case Mr Norrell should return to fetch something he had forgotten. When that did not occur, he picked up one of the triple whale-oil lamps, which gave off more light than any other lamp or candle in the house. He went up to a small corridor off the larger one that contained their bedrooms, as well as a row of other bedrooms that had not been used in decades. The rooms on this corridor seemed to be mainly service closets and cupboards for the storage of housekeeping and repair items.

Now that it came to putting his plan in motion, he felt a trifle nervous. Might Mr Norrell return earlier than he had estimated? Beyond that, he wondered if he really wanted to do something that the other magician had expressly and emphatically forbade him to do. He knew, however, that he would always be curious and thus …

He stopped before a cupboard door and tried to open it. As he suspected, it was locked, as it had been when he first discovered it. Taking a deep breath, he murmured a brief spell. He heard the lock of the door click, and this time when he tried the handle the door swung open. He held up the lamp and looked around in amazement and delight.

Clearly the cupboard was not intended to be used as a linen closet, since the shelves were not deep enough for pillows and folded linens. Besides, there were two large linen closets in the main corridor. It had probably been intended for small furnishings for the bedrooms: hand mirrors, chamber pots, and the like. Now, however, it was nearly full of books.

Carefully setting the lamp down on a shelf, he pulled down a book at random. Its title and especially the engraved frontispiece image confirmed that he had succeeded in his quest. This was Mr Norrell’s place for hiding the forbidden books. He had always claimed they were dangerous and that he himself had only read some of them selectively and in some cases not at all.

Now that Mr Strange was here, it occurred to him that he could not accomplish much. He did not have time to read to any extent before Mr Norrell was likely to return, and yet given that the other magician was almost always in the house, he might never get a chance to do so. Still, he might sample a few pages to learn what Mr Norrell considered so dangerous. Given the man’s fearful nature, perhaps he exaggerated the dangers involved in reading the books. He pulled one down at random.

Just as Mr Strange was turning its pages in search of a spell, Mr Norrell suddenly appeared beside him, losing his balance and staggering against Mr Strange before swiftly backing away. Mr Strange made a loud sound of startlement, rather like the bark of an annoyed dog, and spun around. As he did so, his hand brushed the lamp, which he had put on a shelf. It was a shelf empty of books, since lamps were not allowed to be in close proximity to the contents of the library. (Mr Strange might flout the rules when it came to investigating forbidden books, but he certainly would not go so far as to place a flame dangerously near them.) The lantern tottered and might have fallen to the bare wooden floor, thus possibly depriving the world of its two greatest practical magicians, as well as of the vast and unique library of books upon the subject and of an impressive country home built during the reign of Queen Anne.

Fortunately Mr Strange thrust out his hand and steadied it just in time. Both magicians were panting and feeling their hearts racing in reaction to such an unanticipated reunion.

Mr Strange was first to recover enough to speak. “What in the world …? I thought you were out gathering plants. For quite some time.”

Mortified and flustered at having allowed his body to come into contact, however brief and unintended, with that of Mr Strange, Mr Norrell stared at the floor in embarrassment and gasped, “I do beg your pardon, Mr Strange. That was most involuntary, I assure you!”

Mr Strange took a deep breath and said in an exasperated tone, “I suppose you got caught up in your fascinating search for magical ingredients and forgot to stay close enough to prevent one of our disconcertingly instantaneous reunions.”

Mr Norrell looked at him contritely. “Obviously I misjudged the distance I had gone. It has been so long since one of us has ventured too far from the other and caused one of these dizzying magical transportations. I really have not thought about that particular stricture of the Gentleman’s curse recently.”

Mr Norrell was prevaricating a trifle in this last statement, since not a day went by but what he gave a thought to how delightful it was having Mr Strange all to himself, with the other magician having no option to leave him and return to his wife or for any other purpose. In the early days of his tutoring of Mr Strange, he had chafed whenever the other magician left him to go home at night or to run an errand. How he would have welcomed a magical, invisible attachment between them that prevented such departures. Now Mr Strange could not go far from Mr Norrell without the magic whisking them back together. He quite delighted in that particular stricture of the curse. Not that this magical attachment had gained him his ultimate wish. He had long kept his passionate attraction to the younger magician as his own deep, hopeless secret, since he could not imagine that Mr Strange in any way reciprocated his feelings.

Indeed, Mr Strange continued to look at him disapprovingly, and Mr Norrell felt the need to justify himself further. “Still, Mr Strange, with you out of sight and moving about the house, it is extremely difficult to estimate the distance that we are apart.” He reflected that he really could not be blamed for such a mistake and added primly, “This is not the first time this has occurred, and I am not the only one who has accidentally caused it.”

Mr Strange shrugged. “Yes, I suppose it is difficult. We cannot entirely limit our forays away from each other if the purpose is important and we are separately occupied. We must resign ourselves to experiencing an occasional such occurrence.”

As Mr Strange spoke, Mr Norrell, who had initially felt too flustered by his brief physical contact with Mr Strange’s person and the subsequent need to defend his mistake in causing himself to be jerked back magically into the close neighbourhood of Mr Strange’s person to speak, now had recovered enough to look about himself for the first time, and his face assumed a surprised look. Not a look of pleased surprise, as he would have assumed had Mr Strange swept him into his arms and kissed him. No, it was the surprise of a magician discovering that his dear colleague had delved into an area where he had been explicitly and firmly warned that he was not to venture.

He turned back to face his friend. “Mr Strange, you have been examining the dangerous books!” He was sorry to be so cross with the man he loved dearly, but some things could not be ignored.

Mr Strange’s exasperation resurfaced at being thus scolded for having sought out what he thought of as “the forbidden books.” He had hoped by stealth to avoid this conflict with Mr Norrell, but he really could not feel guilty because he had decided to look at some books that the other magician had once promised to show him.

Mr Norrell went on, “I never should have taught you that unlocking spell.”

“Well, really, in a big house like this, one of us could become locked in somewhere and the other would not discover the fact for hours. And had you not taught me the spell, it would have been I who would be locked in. You need not, however, blame yourself. I did not use “alohomora.”* I found another unlocking spell recently. It reminded me that I had been meaning to have a look in here. I discovered this secret cache of books, by the way, by trying all the doors to cupboards and closets. Apart from the one where you keep your considerable stock of cash, this is the only one that was locked. I assumed you would be out of doors for a good long time, given the large number of plants on your list. It should have occurred to me that you might possibly be involuntarily whisked back to me.”

Mr Norrell’s curiosity was aroused. “What unlocking spell did you use instead? De Chepe?”

“No, I—wait, I thought you said De Chepe was only good for labyrinths.”

“No, I said that he was not a major magician but that he was good at labyrinths. To be fair, he had some other talents, including locking and unlocking spells. Not entirely unrelated to labyrinths, I suppose, since both can be used for hiding things. As I intended to do with these books. They are dangerous, Mr Strange!”

“Perhaps, but by hiding them away you aroused my curiosity, I must say. Besides, if we are to be equals here—or nearly so, since I feel that even now I have much to learn from you—should I not at least know what is so dangerous about these particular volumes? Pardon me for arousing painful memories, but on that evening when I ceased to be your pupil, you offered to show me all your books, without reservation.”

“To be sure, I did. Given that my offer was contingent upon your becoming my partner and that you declined my offer, I might be justified in assuming that my promise was no longer binding.”

An awkward silence fell. Each avoided looking the other in the eye. Mr Norrell felt he was in the right, and yet he did not feel happy about it. He remembered that dreadful evening when Mr Strange had refused his offer to show him the entire library and had left him. The result had been almost exactly two years of misery and loneliness.

He looked up at the other magician with a tentative smile. “Nevertheless, you are right, Mr Strange. We are equals now, or very nearly so, as you say, and we are alone here in the Darkness. No others would be able to see these books.” He turned to scan the shelves.

Mr Strange assumed a gratified and expectant smile. He watched as Mr Norrell looked around, presumably seeking a suitable volume to initiate his new policy. The process seemed to take rather a long time.

The titles of some of the books recalled to Mr Norrell’s mind their especially dreadful contents—contents that had led him to sequester these particular volumes. He hesitated, struggling with himself.

Mr Strange stared at him in further renewed exasperation. “Surely, sir, you do not think that I would use such spells for evil purposes. No, I simply want to learn as much as possible about magic. As I did when I was your pupil. Do you remember the first time you handed me a book during my initial lesson? You were quite reluctant to do so, but you soon overcame that feeling.”

Mr Norrell emitted a faint chuckle. “Yes, I do remember. Happy days those were. Of course, I trust you. I beg your pardon. Force of habit, I suppose. I have so long been the sole protector of respectable English magic. Even now that we are partners, we do not agree on all magical matters, but I know you would never misuse these spells. Though once you read some of them, you will better understand why I have been so secretive about them. There are quite a few books here that I have stopped reading after only a few pages, realising how diabolical they are. I am certain that you will feel much the same way, once you look into them, and sympathise with my desire to keep them from anyone other than myself.”

“After all,” Mr Norrell thought, still seeking to reassure himself, “what harm could it do?”

He reckoned without taking into account Mr Strange’s sense of mischievous, teasing humour.

At first all went well, as the pair took down this book or that to read the table of contents or skim through a few of the spells.

One such volume was a completely amoral collection of spells aimed at thievery of all sorts.

“Good Lord!” exclaimed Mr Strange. “Here’s a spell to allow one to slip objects into one’s clothing and make the resulting bulges invisible to the owners of said objects.” He flipped a few pages and read another spell. “Ha! Here is another that allows one to enchant ‘small cattle’ to follow one home, maintaining a discreet distance so as not appear to be allowing themselves to be stolen. My word, the entire book is made up of such invitations to thievery!”

He returned this book to the shelf and pulled down a few others, commenting on how shocked he was at the immoral spells contained therein.

At intervals Mr Norrell responded approvingly with remarks like, “Ah, now you do see why I was so concerned that such books might fall into the wrong hands,” and Mr Strange murmured his agreement.

After this had gone on for a little while, Mr Strange suddenly noticed an intriguing title and pulled down the book. After turning over its pages and reading a few passages, he suddenly laughed, “Aha! This one is a guide to magical seduction.” He did not notice Mr Norrell’s blush as he flipped through a few pages. “For instance, here is a very useful spell which would allow me to induce you to perform acts of intimate pleasure with me!”

Mr Norrell tried to laugh as well. Despite his relatively limited experience with attempting humourous teasing, he had been on the receiving end of quite a bit of mild teasing from Mr Strange when Mr Norrell had been tutoring him—though only after they had become well acquainted. He had also long admired his pupil’s witty remarks at social gatherings. Occasionally during their lessons he himself had ventured upon a trifling pleasantry, and Mr Strange had encouraged him by laughing immoderately—certainly harder than Mr Norrell suspected his humourous remarks warranted. Now he responded with what he hoped was an equally jesting tone, “Mr Strange, you should be careful what you say. Suppose you were successfully to attempt it and I were actually compelled to obey the magic?”

Mr Strange laughed even harder. “Well, all the luckier I—and possibly you as well!” He waggled his beautiful eyebrows in a suggestive manner, which, had the gesture occurred in other circumstances and had Mr Norrell not been so extremely embarrassed, would have left him weak at the knees.

By this point Mr Norrell was blushing quite noticeably, even in the lamplight. He cleared his throat and glanced around, pulling out another book at random and saying, “Ah, this is a volume of some interest …” He trailed off, having no idea what the book he was holding contained. There followed an awkward silence between them as Mr Norrell gazed unseeing at its table of contents.

He turned to find Mr Strange staring at him, all signs of amusement gone from his face. “I apologise, sir … I did not mean to upset you. I fear that my sense of humour has been somewhat tainted by my lengthy time spent among the common soldiers during the war.”

“Oh, not at all, Mr Strange. I am not upset,” Mr Norrell quickly replied, replacing the book on the shelf. He wished that Mr Strange were not jesting at all and would cast such a spell upon him—not that he would need such a spell. Mr Norrell reflected that he was already quite willing to perform any sort of intimate act that Mr Strange might desire, as long as Mr Strange would instruct him in how to do so. He noticed that he was wringing his hands, as he tended to do when he was worried or nervous, and he quickly folded his arms.

Mr Strange stared at him curiously. “Sir … Gilbert, if I may. Forgive me, but … would you welcome … well, not a silly spell of this sort, to be sure, but if I were to …” He trailed off in some confusion.

Mr Norrell stared back with a baffled frown. “Assuredly this was simply a jest, Mr Strange. I strongly doubt that you would feel the slightest desire to indulge in … such an interaction with another man. Certainly not with me.”

A faint smile returned to Mr Strange’s face. “If I were you, I should not be so sure about that, but if I am wrong and you truly have no such desire, let us forget I ever made that silly joke. I probably spoke only because, well, I had been thinking about that sort of thing quite a bit lately. Frankly, I am frightfully frustrated, and I formed the impression—probably a mistaken one—that you may be as well. We are, after all, in a most unusual situation.”

Mr Norrell stared at him in astonishment, again wringing his hands, and after a brief interval of uncertainty gave up all pretence of hiding his feelings. He burst out, “Mr Strange, I have been frightfully frustrated for over eight years now!”

Mr Strange did a quick calculation in his head, a worried expression on his face. “So since we first met, you mean.”

Mr Norrell calmed a little. “Well, not literally the first day we met. I rather disliked you then. But the second time …” He sighed, and a nostalgic smile crept over his face. “When you did your wonderful magical trick. I instantly felt differently toward you than I had felt toward any one in my life. I wanted to be with you, constantly and forever!”

Mr Strange grinned and replied sardonically, “Yes, I noticed. So did Arabella. So did Childermass, no doubt. And Drawlight and Lascelles. You did not conceal it well. Indeed, you did not seem even to try. Still, I thought of it as simply your excitement at learning of another genuine magician and your subsequent pleasure in teaching me the art. And Arabella pointed out to me that you must be terribly lonely in your eminent position. I must say, no one would dream that a respectable gentleman of your mature years would be eager to shag someone, let alone to …” He paused and waggled those extremely beautiful eyebrows again. “To do a little ‘caudle-making.’”

Mr Norrell stared at him. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Mr Strange chuckled. “No, I suppose not. Let me see, ‘shagging.’ What would a gentleman such as yourself call it? Um …”

Mr Norrell blushed again or at least continued to blush. “Are you referring to … amorous congress?”

“Indeed, yes, and ‘caudle-making’ is, um …”

“Buggery?” (Mr Norrell had no notion that men and women could commit buggery together. After all, the “Acte for the punishment of the vice of Buggerie” passed by Parliament in 1533 was aimed at such an act between men. Mr Norrell was all too well aware of the dangers of violating that act.)

“Exactly. Who, at the time, would have thought it? That underneath that staid wig, you were actually a randy fellow. At least, you apparently were once you met me,” he concluded with an undeniably smug expression.

“Oh, I have always felt such, um, urges. But I have never ‘shagged’ or been ‘shagged’ by any one, male or … or not. I always have taken care of the matter by … um …”

“By tossing off, I suppose. Well, I have resorted to that myself to be sure, especially as a lad. But as one grows older, to have it as one’s sole source of such pleasure is … well, the best one can say is that it is far better than nothing.”

Mr Norrell sighed. “Yes, but I have no doubt that ‘shagging’ or buggery is much superior. But I never dared to find a way to experience it until … possibly … now.”

Mr Strange was examining Mr Norrell up and down, with a grin that suggested that Mr Norrell had indeed found a way to experience buggery at last. Mr Strange took a step closer. For just a moment, Mr Norrell felt a tiny thrill of fear. Mr Strange was so much larger than he, and he was hovering in a rather overpowering way. But no, this was his darling Jonathan, as he secretly thought of the man, looking at him in a way that he had, after all, always longed for. It was just that, had he suspected that Jonathan could possibly ever look at him in that way, he would not have been so presumptuous as to imagine that it would be with that degree of intensity. Besides, he had only the vaguest of ideas about what an intense gaze of desire would look like, having never encountered one before. Its effect was rather dazzling. After that brief reaction, he began to breathe more deeply, not out of fear, but from a realization that this was happening and that it was what he had long wanted and that his cock was swelling so quickly that it was nearly painful.

Who knows how many times Mr Norrell had dreamed of their first kiss? Mr Strange would approach him with enormous tenderness, gently cupping his face with his graceful, long fingers and softly press his lips against his master’s, their mouths moving slowly against each other for long minutes. Soft caresses would follow, and they would savour every moment of undressing each other, revealing their bodies bit by bit, touching wonderingly as pleasure wafted over them. They would climb into bed and embrace and … he knew basically, very basically, what buggery meant, but how in the world _that_ could be accomplished, he had no idea. The joining of the two anatomical features that were, as he understood it, involved in the act seemed quite implausible.

He hoped that the other magician had some experience of bedding men, since he himself, of his own recent admission, had none at all. If Mr Strange would simply take charge of it …

Mr Strange seemed quite willing, nay eager, to take charge of it. Mr Norrell’s vague ideas about first kisses dissolved as Mr Strange closed the short distance between them, seized Mr Norrell in his arms and pulled him firmly against his own body. He leaned over and fastened his open mouth over Mr N’s lips, thrusting his tongue against those lips until they opened. Mr Norrell found his mouth full of Mr Strange’s tongue, which was exploring him eagerly. This frantic osculation was most arousing, strangely enough, but he vaguely realized that he was probably expected to do his part in it. He began to swirl his own tongue tentatively around Mr Strange’s. He was rewarded by a delighted moan from Mr Strange. What a marvellous sound, and he had caused it! He pushed his mouth even harder against his lover’s, and they continued this dance—or was it a struggle?—of tongues until they had to pull apart to gasp for air. Mr Norrell reflected hazily that his knowledge of kissing was progressing at a remarkable rate.

After that Mr Strange’s mouth seemed to be all over the parts of him above his cravat, and his hands were exploring his body in an equally thorough fashion. At last he clutched at Mr Norrell’s buttocks, pulling him against his own body, so that their erections were rubbing together through the cloth of their breeches. Mr Norrell was finding it difficult to remain upright, since Mr Strange was nearly lifting him off the floor. He leaned backward and came into contact with the hard edges of the shelves behind him. He grunted at the slight pain, and at once Mr Strange released him. They stood panting with frustration.

Mr Strange looked around. “This is hardly a convenient place for such activities. I suggest that we stifle our desires until we can reach the comfort of one of our beds.”

Mr Norrell, whose clothing was looking quite mussed by this time, retained a slight capacity for reason, and he gasped, “Yours is slightly closer.”

Mr Strange chuckled. “Yes, even a few paces count at such a moment!” He picked up the lamp and preceded Mr Norrell out of the cupboard, adding exuberantly, “I am so glad that I suggested this!”

Mr Norrell murmured too softly to be heard, “I hope you will be afterward,” not, however, in any way considering not giving Mr Strange the opportunity to find out.

Mr Strange set out toward the main corridor but noticed that Mr Norrell was not following him. He paused and looked back. Mr Norrell had closed the door of the cupboard and pulled out a key.

“Really, Gilbert, you need not lock that door. Not only could I get into it again with a spell, but you have agreed to let me have access to the books. I do not intend to do so often, but still …”

“Oh, yes, of course. Force of habit again. I was thinking of other things,” Mr Norrell replied with a little smile.

The short walk to Mr Strange’s bedroom was complicated by the fact that Mr Strange kept reaching down to squeeze Mr Norrell’s bum and at one point stopped him to engage in another deep kiss. This was both exhilarating and frustrating. Used as Mr Norrell was to believing that Mr Strange could never desire him, by this point he could not but credit the idea that Mr Strange truly did so, and by the time they were standing by Mr Strange’s bed, both were grinning rather foolishly at each other.

They sobered slightly, realising that they had reached the stage of disrobing for each other. Mr Strange suspected that Mr Norrell was probably not going to be particularly adept at undressing him, so he began to unbutton his own shirt and stripped it off. He divested himself of his breeches as well. He noticed that Mr Norrell had immediately stopped trying to undo his own clothing and was staring raptly at his increasingly nude body. He slowed down, removing his smallclothes in a more leisurely fashion, allowing Mr Norrell to enjoy the process.

At last Mr Strange stood before him completely naked, smiling as Mr Norrell’s eyes passed over him.

“Oh, Mr Strange!” he said quietly. “So … so beautiful!”

“I am delighted that you think so, Gilbert. Now, let me have a look at you!”

Mr Norrell’s expression faded from enthralled to worried as Mr Strange approached him. He slowly raised his hands to undo his cravat, fumbling slightly at it. He had never been adept at dressing and undressing himself, and now his fingers seemed to lose what little skill they had.

Mr Strange sensed that he was reluctant to reveal his own body, and he stepped forward. “Gilbert, I want you! I want you naked, in my arms, and in my mouth!”  
“Mouth?” Mr Norrell asked, intrigued.

“Yes, my mouth. Now, I would love to rip your clothes off and have my way with you, but I promise to be careful. Allow me,” he said cheerfully, reaching out and beginning by removing Mr Norrell’s wig and tossing it onto a nearby chair. Mr Norrell looked after it and then at the nearby wig stand. Mr Strange noted this and said, “We can hang it up later, Gilbert. I want you naked as quickly as may be!”

Mr Norrell was feeling two opposed emotions at the same time. He felt distinctly nervous at revealing his 53-year-old body to the beauteous Mr Strange and yet he realized that he could not possibly enjoy the bliss that Mr Strange could undoubtedly provide without doing so. He was struggling to breathe normally and to focus on Mr Strange’s body so close to his own as he was stripped quickly and efficiently.

Finally he stood awkwardly as Mr Strange surveyed his naked body, feeling a return of the doubts concerning the other man’s ability to actually desire him, now that he had seen the reality. Mr Norrell resisted the considerable temptation to put his hands over his private parts, instead folding his arms in front of him. Mr Strange reached out and pulled them down, remarking, “Let me see your lovely nipples, Gilbert. Yes, very nice! He continued to examine Mr Norrell, moving to look behind him. “Quite a tight little arse, too. I suppose that comes of all those trips up your rolling library staircases. You are in better condition than I would have expected. Well, I will explore that very attractive area more closely another day.”

Mr Norrell considered that Mr Strange was flattering him beyond what was realistic, and yet Mr Strange’s erection, which had retreated to some extent during their trip to the bedroom and subsequent undressing, had returned as he looked Mr Norrell over.

“He must genuinely desire me!” Mr Norrell thought, regaining some confidence.

This mutual examination concluded, Mr Strange guided Mr Norrell to the bed and arranged some pillows at the head for him to recline against. Mr Strange then climbed onto the bed and lay down on him, kissing him deeply, then progressing downward. He paid attention to Mr Norrell’s nipples, which elicited some appreciative whimpers as Mr Norrell simultaneously fulfilled a long-held wish to entwine his fingers in Mr Strange’s beautiful, curly hair. This pleasant activity brought both of them to fully-erect states, and Mr Strange slid down to lie on his stomach between Mr Norrell’s spread, bent legs.

After admiring Mr Norrell’s rigid member and running his fingers lightly up and down it, he smiled up at his lover. “You are so hard that I do not imagine you want me to linger over this, and I do not feel any inclination to do so.” With that, he began to lick and kiss the shaft, working his way up to the tip, and suddenly took the entire cock into his mouth.

Mr Norrell gave a delighted squeak and watched avidly as Mr Strange bobbed up and down on him. When he had “tossed off” in the past, he had sometimes struggled to achieve climax, but now his bliss soared and then descended on him effortlessly and intensely. He clenched his eyes closed and felt the waves of ecstasy wash over him, longer than he had ever experienced, and finally slowly linger in fading fillips of pleasure.

After a certain amount of panting and savouring the lovely afterglow in his loins, he opened his eyes and realized that Mr Strange had been stroking his own erection as he orally pleasured him.

“No, Jonathan! Please don’t toss yourself off or toss off yourself or however you say it. I have waited for this for so long. I would like to know what another man’s, um, member feels like—and not just with my fingers. I would like at least to try and make you reach the extremes of pleasure that I have just experienced. And I want … I want to taste the results,” he finished in a rush.

Mr Strange’s hand slowed. “Are you sure? You are not likely to enjoy the flavour. And the process of using your mouth is not as easy as it may look.”

“But I want … I want to experience your pleasure in every possible way. To know that I caused it and that you allowed me to touch you in such an intimate way. And besides, I would have to learn at some point. And … well, if I do not manage to make you … uh, achieve completion, you can toss off at the end. I promise, however, that I shall practice until I am as skilled as you.”

“I see. Well … if you wish to give it a go, have at it!” Mr Strange let go of his cock and moved up to settle back into the pillows to take Mr Norrell’s place. “I am sure I shall enjoy it. I trust you will not have any objections if I make a few suggestions.”

“Please do,” said Mr Norrell, scooting down to imitate Mr Strange’s position, lying on his stomach between Mr Strange’s spread, bent knees and staring happily at the man’s erection. He explored it with his fingers, delighting at the silky smoothness of the tip, the rough, high veins of the shaft, and the taut balls, swollen with unspent seed. The shaft rose straight, even faintly curving upward, while his own cock arced slight downward. It was certainly larger than his own, which was impressive and quite pleasing.

Mr Strange watched him avidly, smiling in a way that made Mr Norrell confident enough to commence a similar exploration with his lips and tongue. For a time they stared into each other’s eyes, until Mr Norrell lost himself in pleasure and closed his eyes, glorying in the feel of the warm, hard cock as he kissed and licked every part of it.

“God, Gilbert, I want to come,” Mr Strange moaned. “Try to suck the end and stroke it below with your hand.”

Mr Norrell rose up slightly and pushed his mouth down over the tip. He could only get the end inside, but he sucked and licked as best he could. He was quite familiar with frigging his own cock, and he tried to do the same with this larger shaft. He watched Mr Strange’s face as it registered the soaring pleasure.

Finally Mr Strange gasped out, “I’m about to …” His face clenched, and he groaned as warm spurts of his seed gushed into Mr Norrell’s mouth. Mr Norrell managed to swallow the first one, but the rest was too much for him, and he pulled his mouth away. One spurt caught his cheek, while the rest dribbled down over his hand as he continued to pull on the shaft. Mr Strange relaxed suddenly back into the pillows, and he panted, reaching down to stroke Mr Norrell’s shot, curly hair.

Mr Norrell waited patiently for him to recover, reflecting that he probably had done as well as could be expected for a first time. He hoped Mr Strange would agree. At least he had not disgraced himself. He wondered vaguely when they might be able to commit buggery together.

Soon Mr Strange opened his eyes and grinned down at him in a delight that was obviously sincere. “That was marvellous. I am glad you insisted on trying that tonight. I think you will learn about pleasuring each other very quickly, you randy little fellow!” He sat up and reached for a handkerchief, helping Mr Norrell to wipe the spilled seed off his cheek and fingers and then drawing him up to lie side-by-side. He pulled the sheet and blankets, which had been bunched at the bottom of the bed, up over them. “I am feeling quite drowsy. You as well? Mmmm, then there is time for a nap before we drag ourselves out of bed to have supper.”

“I … I am usually used to wearing some night-clothes to bed, Mr Strange. I have always been quite subject to feeling the cold.”

“Well, before now you did not have me to keep you warm. Which do you prefer, night-clothes or my arms around you? Not, I should add, that I would refuse to hold you if you insist on wearing them, but I do think you would be quite warm without our rising from this very comfortable bed when I am so very …” he yawned.

“Oh, well, if you put it that way, Mr Strange … I suppose I do not really need my night-clothes to be able to have a nap.”

It turned out indeed that he did not. The pair slept quite soundly, turning over occasionally, but ending up entwined on each such occasion.

An hour or so later they arose and cobbled together a rather simple, cold meal.

As they ate, Mr Norrell said, “That was indeed marvellous, Mr St—uh, Jonathan! So much more intense than just tossing off. Still, much though I enjoyed it and wish to practice it until I am quite proficient, I hope eventually we can try buggery. It must be even more intense. Do you know how to do it?”

Mr Strange hesitated. “Yes, I have experience with it.”

Mr Norrell was silent, thinking over the implications of this admission. Jonathan must have had sex with men. (Again, he made that assumption because he had no idea that men could commit buggery with women, since, after all, why in the world would they want to?)

Mr Strange watched his face, sensing what he was thinking. He said, “It was during the war. Two years away from my wife. I dared not visit the local brothels, which were no doubt rife with the clap. Like the officers and soldiers, I turned to my comrades for comfort and pleasure. I never spoke of it to Arabella, and she never asked. Still, two years! I felt guilty about it at first, but going without such pleasure for so long simply was too much to bear. Of course, you have borne that lack for all your life.”

“Yes, I was always terrified of the anti-buggery law. Of course, in Spain and Portugal you would have not been subject to the same legal punishments for such actions, as we are here in Britain. Quite unreasonably, I believe. I do not understand why two people in the privacy of their own homes cannot … Well, no one will pay attention to my opinions about the law.” He smiled. “Here in the Darkness, however, we are quite safe.”

“Safe indeed! Once you feel ready, we shall defy that absurd law and commit buggery willy-nilly,” he said, with a grand flourish of his hand.

Mr Norrell chuckled. Mr Strange was so charming and enthusiastic. How could anyone help loving him?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning, the pair, both of whom were still completely naked, lay in bed luxuriously for a long time, cuddling and kissing.

Finally Mr Strange stretched and yawned. “Last night was delightful, Gilbert. Our, um, amorous congress was so very pleasurable!”

“I certainly enjoyed it! And you really did as well?”

“Gilbert! Didn’t I seem to enjoy it?”

“Yes, but I cannot believe that what I was doing could have excited you that much. I am afraid I was quite hesitant in my ignorance.”

“A bit, perhaps, but you obviously forgot your nervousness and became quite absorbed in caressing me. Moreover, caresses are not the only arousing part of such activities. Having a partner who is eager to give pleasure can excite one. When I was sucking you, were you not aroused by my reactions?”

“Yes, indeed!”

“For me, watching you touching another man for the first time, and knowing how much you had wanted to do so, and for so long … That was wonderful in itself. Moreover, you did very well indeed for a novice, and it will only take a few times of us doing this together for you to become most skilful. You will learn quickly, I deem, precisely because you enjoy it yourself.”

Mr Norrell smiled at him adoringly. “Perhaps as quickly as you learned magic when you were my pupil.”

“Oh, no, _much_ faster than that!”

They both chuckled and remained silent for a time, sighing occasionally and gazing into each other’s eyes.

Finally Mr Norrell said softly, “You have made me so happy, Mr Strange—”

“Jonathan … please.”

“Jonathan. I never wanted anything as much as I have wanted you. Except, I must admit, the first time I attempted magic. I had studied for nearly three years before I dared attempt a spell. Finally I got up the courage to try a simple one. Of course, I failed on the first attempt. I was only sixteen.”

“Oh, no, my dear Gilbert,” Mr Strange murmured, kissing his neck.

“Well, of course, it was only to be expected and the whole affair has a happy ending. I worked at seeing why I failed and revised the spell. It failed again. By that point I was quite desperate, thinking I had wasted such a long time and faced a life without magic—or anything else I cared for. I suppose I would have had to settle for being a theoretical magician! But I revised again and again, and on the fourth try the spell worked. I was so overjoyed, you can’t imagine—”

“I believe I can, knowing you.”

“At last I knew that my long studies and my repeated attempts at casting spells had worked. The first time that an English magician had successfully cast a spell in three hundred years! It had all been worthwhile, and I now faced a life of fascinating reading and spell-casting and … and accomplishment.”

By this point he was a bit teary-eyed, and Mr Strange kissed his cheek again.

“Poor Gilbert, with your entire life’s happiness depending on that spell and to have it fail! I myself barely had to try. I had a bit of crumpled paper with a spell, which I cast having no understanding of it or any concern that it should work. It did, and I became a magician, just like that.” He paused and resumed, “Gilbert, I am overwhelmed with pride that I could possibly make you as happy as that successful spell did.”

Mr Norrell hesitated. “It was not just that I was randy and wanted you physically, Jonathan. I have loved you from the moment I saw you do real magic. I adore and worship you!”

Mr Strange stared at him, and slowly a smile crossed his face. “I suspected as much, Gilbert. I am also humbled to think that a great magician like you could love a brash young fellow like me.”

“Oh, Jonathan,” Mr Norrell murmured, and cuddled closer to him. He noticed, however, that Jonathan did not say that he returned his love.

++++++++++++++++++++++

After a late breakfast, the pair both put on boots and coats and carried the same equipment that Mr Norrell had assembled for the previous day’s aborted expedition. The gathering of the plants for the magical experiment took longer than it would otherwise have done, since Mr Norrell could not refrain from lecturing to Mr Strange at some length about the appearance and nature of each plant, including what other sorts of magic each was typically used for. For once Mr Strange wished that he was in a position to take copious notes, but carrying along writing equipment had not occurred to him and it would probably not have been practicable to write at any length without benefit of a sturdy, flat writing surface. Mr Norrell had written out the labels for the plants’ containers ahead of time.

As usual, Mr Norrell’s lectures tended to be rather repetitious and, frankly, dull, though as always the information he conveyed was fascinating in itself. Besides, Mr Strange rewarded Mr Norrell for his little lectures at the end of each one by kissing him, though their activities of the previous afternoon meant that the kisses were of the gentle, romantic, lengthy sort that Mr Norrell had previously imagined they might indulge in. All in all, the expedition was productive, informative, and very pleasant.

Once back in the house and divested of their protective garments, they spent a few hours assembling and preparing the plants and other ingredients, since some had to be crushed, some cooked, and others cut into pieces, all just so. The glances and smiles they exchanged spoke of a growing desire to finish their work so that they might repeat the amorous congress in a more leisurely fashion.

At last they were ready and, as Mr Norrell always insisted, they double-checked that every ingredient was present in the correct form and quantity and then read over the spell, moving their lips but taking care not to speak the words aloud. Finally they launched into the magic, with Mr Strange reciting the spell while Mr Norrell carefully added each ingredient in turn.

To their delight, the result was a dim but definite glow of light that faded up in the room. It was not full sunlight, to be sure, but more like what would be present around twilight. They both gasped and surveyed the room in wonder.

Mr Strange looked at Mr Norrell with a broad grin, seeing him more clearly now, despite the fact that only two lamps were lit in the entire study. “I must say, that will do very well! I have always found twilight pleasant, in a melancholy sort of way. A prelude to the darkness of night, but a peaceful time of day as well. Perhaps we can make some refinements to the spell and create a slightly brighter light. Even if we cannot, as one who has lived in the Darkness for quite some time now, I am quite pleased.”

“I, too, have always enjoyed twilight. A time for feeling the progress one has made during the day, the knowledge gained.” Mr Norrell paused in thought. “I wonder if this lovely twilight is present throughout the house and whether it will be permanent or last for only a limited time, requiring us to cast the spell anew each day.”

Mr Strange went to the window. “The dim light is present outside as well, I suppose to the limits of the Darkness. Come, let us investigate the other rooms. Then we can make some dinner—something more elaborate than yesterday evening, as a celebration. And after that, we can retire to share pleasure again and allow you to put in some practice at the same thing we did yesterday. When we awake tomorrow morning, we should find out the answer to your other question.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The twilight turned out to fade away in the evening and return in the morning, which was most helpful in allowing the two magicians to tell night from day. It also meant that they did not need to cast the spell each day. All attempts at improving the spell and conjuring a brighter light failed, however, and they quickly resigned themselves to having a dim light rather than the starlit darkness that had previously defined the curse cast upon Mr Strange by the gentleman with the thistle-down hair. It was certainly an improvement, they both agreed.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few months after their first exchange of pleasure, they lay once more in bed in the morning, delaying rising as they held each other and exchanged endearments.

Mr Norrell exclaimed, “I am so happy, Jonathan!”

“And my prediction was correct. You are indeed wonderfully skilful at intimacy now, and no less enthusiastic, and marvellously responsive and uninhibited in bed as well, all of which make you a most delightful lover.”

“Does … does this mean that you are giving yourself to me, Jonathan? Forever?” He hardly dared hope this was the case, but he could not forebear asking the question that he had for some time now been gathering the courage to ask.

Mr Strange thought for a horribly long time—perhaps only a minute, but it seemed forever.

“I really cannot answer that, Gilbert. Who knows what the future holds? We are still just beginning, really, to shape a life for ourselves in the Darkness. We may be here together forever—or at least for a hundred or a thousand years, if your knowledge about the typical terms of a Fairy Curse is accurate.

“Or we may find a way out of the Darkness on our own, sooner or later. What I may feel I must do about Arabella at that point, I can’t say. Listen to me,” he added was a wry little chuckle. “Already I speak of her almost as an obligation rather than a desire. I told her not to be a widow. One implication of that is that I would not be faithful to her, either. As I have not been, and I do not regret it in the least. If she remarries, well, that is that. If she does not, shall I go back to her? Should I? I find it hard to imagine living quietly with her in Shropshire again, as she would wish. Yet when I spoke with her, I could not quite bring myself entirely to break with her.”

He rolled onto his side and embraced Mr Norrell, kissing him and resuming, “For now, we are all we have. And if that turns out to be permanent, I am quite sure that I shall be most happy with you. _That_ I do find easy to imagine. I am very fond of you as a companion, and I respect you enormously as a colleague. For now, let us leave it at that shall we? I am sure my desires and obligations will become clearer in time. When they do, I shall surely let you know.”

He hugged Mr Norrell tightly and said quietly in his ear, “Whatever may happen, however, let us vow that we shall never become estranged again. Becoming enemies made us both miserable. I absolutely do not want to have anything like that drive us apart. We are friends, dear, dear friends from now on. Agreed?”

Mr Norrell hugged him back. “Of course, Jonathan! We must never allow any disagreements about magic to come between us. I believe we have both gained a greater understanding and sympathy for each other’s positions after our experiences with the curse of the Darkness and of our great battle with the Fairy. We shall always discuss our disagreements in a calm and rational fashion. Well, fairly calm!” They both smiled.

They lay quietly in each other’s arms. Despite this agreement, however, Mr Norrell was somewhat worried by Mr Strange’s speculations about the future and what he might do about his wife. Might Jonathan leave him someday? True, they would remain friends and partners in magic, but that was not the same as being lovers. He could hardly object at this point or plead for Jonathan to live with him forever, in the Darkness or out of it. After all, here he was, exactly as he had wished to be, with his naked body pressed against Jonathan’s naked body in a sweet embrace.

It was not quite all that he had hoped for, and yet it was so much more than he could have dreamed of in their early months together in the Darkness. On balance, what Mr Strange had said seemed to tilt toward wanting to stay with him in the Darkness rather than return to his wife. He knew there would always be a nagging worry at the back of his mind that Mr Strange might someday decide on that second option. No matter how much he told himself to forget about it for now and enjoy their new intimacy, he could not entirely do so. Perhaps, if he made life in the Darkness together attractive enough, Jonathan would wish to stay. The longer he was apart from Mrs Strange, the more likely that would be.

They cuddled for a little while longer. Eventually they rose, bathed, dressed, and breakfasted. They went to the study, cheered by the twilight that now marked daytime for them in the Darkness.

* _It is interesting to note that the simple “alohomora” spell was already in use early in the Second Aureate Age. A number of other unlocking spells were common in earlier periods, but with the establishment of regularized magical education, for basic tasks one-word spells were deemed more practical for young children to learn in their introductory classes. This previously obscure spell became a standard part of nearly every magical school’s curriculum._

_Whether Mr Norrell created the spell or merely found it in an unknown source is so far unclear. One hypothesis is that he devised it for Mr John Childermass, to aid him in his work of investigating false or aspiring magicians. Most of the spells in Mr Norrell’s handwriting found among the Man of Business’ papers after his death were of this elementary type._


End file.
